Friday, July 22, 2016

Great Summer Countdown Blitz - Day 11

I am retired high school English teacher. A devourer of books growing up, my profession introduced me to writings and authors from times long past. Through my studies and teaching, I fell in love with the Ancient and Medieval Worlds. Now, I hope to inspire young readers and those Young-at-Heart to read more through my Quest Books set in these worlds.

I also conduct Medieval/Short Story Writing Workshops in Elementary/Middle School classes. Contact me if you are interested in holding a workshop for students: ccarpinello@mac.com.Q&A With the Author:

Q.What is the thing you struggle
with the most while writing? And how do you defeat it?

A. My biggest struggle is figuring out how to get my
characters to the next pivot point in my stories. That’s when I put down pen
and paper and spend time going over different scenarios in
my head. Sometimes that takes a few hours, but usually it’s a few days.

At the dawn of Camelot, one young girl is about to take her place beside the greatest king in England’s history….

She is a mere child of twelve. But in these medieval days, this is the age when childish things must be put away and greater responsibilities accepted—all in preparation for a betrothal of marriage.

For young Lady Guinevere, on the advent of her thirteenth Birth Day, the whole idea is quite unbearable. After all, what could be better than spending her youth playing with her best friend Cedwyn, roaming the grounds around the castle looking for mythical creatures or hunting rabbits?

However, the wizard Merlyn—her teacher and friend—knows that destiny has a way of catching up with a person. His arrival sets in motion a series of events that will lead Guinevere to her destiny whether she is ready for it or not.

At the bottom of the stairs, Guinevere paused
and peeked out the door. Seeing no one,
she stepped out into the bailey, thankful for the clouds that hid the
moon. Focused on the outer door across
the courtyard, she missed seeing the figure that slid out of the shadows and
followed her.

Guinevere
glanced once more around the bailey as she reached the outer door. The shadow following her hugged the building
as the moon drifted out from the clouds.
She crept through the door and turned to the right. Keeping in the shadows and close to the
stable wall, she managed to work her way to about twenty yards from the edge of
the forest. Taking a furtive look around,
she stole across the open grass and slipped into the trees.

As
she disappeared from view, the figure following her moved through the outer
door. As Guinevere had done, this figure
kept close to the stable wall, staying within the shadows and watching the tree
line for any movement. Seeing nothing,
the shadowy figure moved out into the moonlight, revealing himself to any who
happened to be watching, but there were none.
Those not in bed stayed in the hall enjoying themselves too much to
venture out into the late night. The
moonlight bounced off his grey gown and illuminated his white hair, making it
appear ghostly. Merlyn quickened his
pace, not wanting to fall too far behind.

Guinevere
crept along the forest path. The
fragrance of wet pine filled her senses.
Suddenly, the faint sound of a voice off to her right reached her ears. She turned and moved cautiously through the
trees and brush. The calming quality of the voice dispelled her
fears. As she moved closer, the voice’s
volume increased very little. Whoever it
belonged to continued to whisper to someone, although Guinevere heard only the
one voice.

Through
the leafy oak branches, Guinevere made out the shape of a tall, slender woman
dressed in a white hooded robe. Edging
closer she saw that the woman stood in a small clearing. Moonlight filtered down, descending almost
like a halo around her. With the woman’s
hood up, Guinevere was unable to discern any other physical features. The woman continued to talk to someone
concealed by her body. Intrigued,
Guinevere moved closer, careful not to make any noise. While the woman did not move, from time to
time her arms reached out in front of her, for some reason unknown to
Guinevere.

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